by Hughes, Maya
Her roommate stood in the kitchen. The clink of her spoon against the side of her mug ticked away each second, a smug look on her face as the weight of what I’d just done sank down onto my shoulders. It was heavier than any drill, any tackle, any loss.
I bit out a curse. This was exactly why I needed to end this, why I needed to not get sidetracked. I banged my fist on her door and bolted from the apartment. I was going pro. She was going to Harvard. It was as simple as that. Who knew where the hell I’d end up? The draft might send me to Seattle or Miami.
Inside my car with my hands wrapped around the steering wheel, the cold metal pressed against my palms. I needed to focus, to get paid and live the life my dad should have been living. So why did I feel like I was adrift? Like I was freefalling into an abyss I’d never be able to pull myself out of? I rested my head on the steering wheel and tried to remember what it was like to breathe, what it was like to live a life without Seph.
31
Reece
I dragged a chair out of the corner of the garage and stared out the open door at the snow drifting to the ground. Two days until the championship game. Two days until what I’d thought was the most important moment of my life, but I hadn’t even returned the calls from any of the agents who’d contacted me. It had been nine days since I’d last spoken to Seph. I’d escaped the prison-like surveillance Coach had us all under and was at my parents’ house.
Mom’s face had dimmed the second she’d pulled into the driveway and spotted me.
“Is everything okay? Is everyone okay?” She’d hopped out of the car and crouched down, resting her hand against my cheek.
My lips tightened.
“What’s going on with you?”
“Nothing.”
“You can’t tell me nothing when you’ve been walking around here since yesterday like someone killed the dog and we’ve never even had a dog.”
“Let me help you with the groceries.” I loaded up my arms with bags and took them into the kitchen. Mom whispered with Dad in the living room before dropping her hand onto his arm and disappearing upstairs.
“Reece, can I talk to you for a minute?”
After setting all the bags down on the counter and table, I walked into the living room. Dad ran his hand up and down his arm. “Your mom said you were out in the garage staring at nothing. Is everything okay?” The corner of his mouth lifted. “Is it about football?”
“No, but of course you’d want something to be wrong. You’d love for me to fuck this up, wouldn’t you?” I jumped up from my spot on the couch and rounded on him. “You can’t stand that I’m going to go pro. I’m going to stay in as long as I can, and letting someone get in the way of that—letting someone distract me from being the best wide receiver in the game isn’t happening.”
“That’s what you think? That I want you to screw up?”
“Why else wouldn’t you come to any of my games? You didn’t even want me to play in the first place. If I hadn’t forged your name on my permission slips, would you have let me play?”
“Absolutely not.” His voice was hard, and there was an edge to the glint in his eye.
I threw my hands up. “Exactly. You left because you couldn’t hack it. You missed Mom and gave up the glory for what? To be a pencil pusher at Grandpop’s office? I’m not doing that. I’m not going to live my life regretting it and keeping my kids from living the life they deserve.”
He dropped his head. Running his hand along his neck, he squeezed it. The light from the lamp reflected off his wedding ring. “Is that what you think?”
“It’s what I know.”
His head rose like he had a hundred pound weight around his neck. Standing, he walked closer and stood in front of me.
“I didn’t stop playing because of your mom.” Dad clamped his hand over my shoulder. “Not only because of her, I never wanted to stop you from living your dream, but I didn’t want you to make the same mistakes I made.”
“You don’t need to worry about that. I made sure I didn’t.” The sadness in Seph’s eyes when she’d handed me back the necklace I’d given her flashed in my mind.
“And from the look in your eyes and the way you’ve been moping around here, you might have missed out on the best thing that’s ever happened to you.” He gave me one of those annoyingly sage Dad looks.
A flare of anger broke free. “Like you don’t wish you hadn’t left and played one more season.”
“I couldn’t take one more hit, Reece.” His tone was shrouded in grimness.
“No one likes taking hits.”
“It wasn’t just being taken out by a defenseman. Maybe I wasn’t as fast as you, but those hits came often, and when my bell got rung, it stayed rung. That last season I played I had three concussions. It wasn’t until the last one that I found out how high the price was.”
“But you’re fine.” Wasn’t he? He’d been healthy as a horse, running five miles most mornings before going off to the office.
“I’m okay now, but…” He shook his head and held his fist up to his mouth.
Fear prickled the back of my neck.
“I wasn’t fast enough, and I wasn’t smart enough to quit while I was ahead.”
“Dad, you’re freaking me out.” I searched his face for answers.
“I almost lost you all. That last season I started losing time. The doctors said it was temporary, that it would all straighten itself out, and maybe if I hadn’t gotten hit, it would have, but I did.”
He looked up at me with tears welled up in his eyes. He held on to my shoulder and squeezed.
“I lost your first three years, everything from right after your mom told me she was pregnant”—he snapped his finger—“gone. I didn’t remember resting my head on her stomach like I did with Ethan or holding her hand in the delivery room…the first time I got to hold you in my arms…you smashing your face into that sugar-free cupcake she made you on your first birthday.”
A tear slid down his cheek.
“All your firsts were wiped away. The coaches wanted me to keep going. The doctors were willing to sign off on me going back to playing, but I couldn’t take the chance. I was so ashamed that I’d even considered it, but I kept wondering what else I would lose. I didn’t want to lose any more of you, your mom, or Ethan, so I quit. I walked out of the coach’s office and left. I didn’t look back, and I’ve never regretted that decision for a second.
“When you wanted to play, that was hard for me. I knew you’d be a star. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind. You loved the game and loved the crowds, even when you were in high school, but I didn’t know if, presented with that choice, you’d make the one you wouldn’t regret the rest of your life. Sometimes memories are all we have, and there’s no amount of money in the world that can get those back.”
My dad stared at me with tears in his eyes. His hand closed on my shoulder. His nostrils flared. So many of the things my dad had said growing up finally clicked into place.
“The photo albums?” I stared into his watery eyes. He never looked at my childhood photo albums. Ethan and Rebecca’s, he’d pull out every so often and look at, but mine gathered dust on the bookcase.
He jerked back. “You noticed that?”
The weight pressing against my chest intensified.
“After the first few times I looked them over, there was nothing, not even the slightest flicker. The guilt was too much. Looking at them reminded me of the trade I’d made. My stupidity robbed me of that time with you. Every so often I’d check Ethan and Rebecca’s as a test for myself to make sure it hadn’t progressed and become even worse. For you, I was determined to build new memories I’d treasure.”
“You made me think you didn’t believe in me.” I jumped up, knocking his hand off my shoulder. “For years, I wanted you to just watch me play, and you refused.” The crushing waves of sadness that had overwhelmed me now let a ray of sunlight break through the raging storm.
“I couldn’t watch, even
for you. I love you and to know you might go through what I went through…I tried to save you from that.”
“By not telling me? By lying to me? You could have told me.” Tears burned the backs of my eyes. All this time, I’d thought he didn’t believe in me or he was jealous of what I’d been able to do. “I just wanted you there to support me and be my dad.”
He shot up and wrapped his arms around me, holding on to my shoulders. I buried my head in his shoulder, and the wave of emotions poured out of me.
“I know, son. I’m sorry. I messed up, but I’ve always been proud of you.” He shook me with his words. “I’ve never been prouder, and I’m sorry I ever made you feel that way. I’ll do better.” He held on tight, patting me on the back.
With a shaky breath, I let go of him. My head pounded and I used my shirt to dry my face.
My dad clapped his hand on my shoulder. He squeezed it, staring back at me with red-ringed eyes. “How about I get you a slice of fudge pie?” The corners of his mouth lifted.
“You think you can make everything better with a slice of pie?”
He shrugged. “How about two?”
I shook my head at him. “Deal.” Everything I’d known in the world was turned upside down and I didn’t know how to make any of it right, but I’d start with the pie. His memories of me and the family had been the most important thing. He’d given up the fame and the glory to keep the ones he had and make new ones. If someone had told me all the memories I had of Seph would be wiped away tomorrow and I’d be none the wiser, I wouldn’t have even toyed with the idea.
I’d been trying to fight what she meant to me, and only now that I’d lost her did the truth come out. I’d figure it out over fudge pie. I couldn’t leave things as they were. I couldn’t let her believe I didn’t care, couldn’t let her believe I didn’t love her.
* * *
My gaze ran over the crowd and stopped on the red coat in a sea of navy. Her hair stuck out of the red knitted hat, blowing in the wind. My heart ached like it was caught in a vise.
Bodies slammed into me, this time in celebration. The Gatorade dumped over my head blinded me for a second. Wiping the sugary drink out of my eyes, I caught the red disappearing up the steps of the stadium and out the tunnel as everyone else celebrated. She was leaving.
“Coach, I’ve got to go.” Pulling my jersey off, I dumped it on the concrete floor of the tunnel. The cheers and roars from everyone and some jackass with an airhorn nearly blew out my eardrums.
“What, son?” He leaned in.
“I’ve got to go.” I tugged off my pads and dropped them, moving along with the crowd as they pushed us toward the locker room.
“Are you crazy? We just won! Everyone’s going to be out there waiting to talk to you. You’ve gotten on my damn nerves this season with your showboating, but you did good out there, kid.” He wrapped his arms around my neck and pulled me in close.
“And now I’ve got somewhere to be.”
“Where could be more important than here?” Someone grabbed him and steered him away.
“We did it!” LJ jumped onto my back, nearly knocking me over. Coach glared at him before stalking off.
I let the celebration drag me toward the locker room. Rushing inside, I bolted for my locker. The place was chaos. Half the team was inside, losing their minds. Pads, jerseys, towels, equipment, and every person imaginable was crammed into the small space filled with overly large people.
My name was called out from every direction, but I was determined. No time for a shower. I kicked off my cleats and opened my locker. Fuck. My shoes were gone. It didn’t matter. Pulling open the locker next to mine, I glanced down at the gray monstrosities sitting in there.
As I yanked my shirt over my head, it clung to the sweat on my body. Screw it. Grabbing my jeans, I jumped into them, dove for Berk’s shoes, and tugged them on. Buttoning my jeans, I held my keys between my teeth and pushed my way out through the crowd.
Bursting out of the locker room, I elbowed my way through the reporters, teammates, fans, and anyone else in my way. I wrapped my hands around the long metal bar running across the steel door at the end of the hallway and threw it open. A blast of wind so cold my teeth ached hit me the second I stepped outside. My feet slipped and slid in Berk’s shitty shoes.
Yanking open the door to my car, I revved the engine and threw it into reverse. The traffic on the road conspired against me on the way to her apartment.
32
Seph
I welcomed the numbness, preferred it to the raw, sawing, can’t-think-straight pain detonating in my chest. Reece had walked away—hell, he hadn’t walked, he’d run away the second I’d brought up something even jokingly close to a future. That had been my answer, so why was I in this taxi? Why was I subjecting myself to this torture?
“They’ll want you to start your coursework over the summer, formalities for beginning the PhD program.” My dad’s voice droned on out of the speaker of my phone.
The back of the taxi was even colder than outside.
Leaning my head against the headrest, I stared out the window, the clear blue sky stretching on forever above me. How could the rest of the world go on like nothing had happened? I’d been waking up with the air trapped in my lungs, clawing at the sheets as I tried to suck in another breath.
This call made me want to jump from the taxi, leave my phone behind, disappear into the city, and become someone else, someone who didn’t know what it was like to feel his caress and sweet whispers.
It was so much harder trying to keep myself together after closing the door on Reece. It was like closing the door on the possibility of a future unlike any I could have imagined for myself.
* * *
When I showed up at the will call office and gave them my name, I figured there wouldn’t be a ticket there for me and I could take solace in the fact that I’d tried to keep my promise, but the woman had asked to see my ID through the crackly speaker. I slipped it into the little well at the bottom of the glass and she slid it back to me with a single ticket.
Fans crowded around the stadium entrance and I found my way to my seat, right behind the Trojan’s bench, a few rows from the bottom. The team ran out onto the field and everyone was on their feet. I used their standing bodies to shield me in case he saw, but he was focused on the game, giving it his all like he did for everything. It was my first time watching him on the field. I’d followed the games online with the text stats before, but I’d never sat down to see him play in person. It was bittersweet, so much of his work out there for everyone to see.
By the last quarter, I cheered along with the rest of the fans in the stands. I jumped up and down as the kinetic energy of the roofless building exploded with joy when the ball bounced twice in Reece’s hands before he clamped it against his chest. The next pass, Nix looked poised to throw it to him again, but instead he threw it to number 52, Keyton in block letters across the player’s back. That catch was clean, without a bounce, and as he crossed the line into the end zone, the place exploded, the noise so loud I was tempted to cover my ears, fearing I’d suffer actual hearing loss. The joy was overwhelming. I’d never been in a sea of people so focused on one goal together.
Sitting in my seat, I watched Reece pile on top of Keyton and scooted along the row until I hit the aisle. He’d played better than anyone else on the field. I had no idea about the rules, but he’d given everything to the game. It was no wonder he’d choose it over me.
Riding back to my apartment in the taxi, I blinked back tears. For a second I had thought he’d seen me, but then he’d gone right back to celebrating with the rest of the team. He’d place well in the draft with a championship and a touchdown in the winning game next to his name.
The apartment was quiet. Walking into my room, I spotted the shiny, silver latches under my bed. I grabbed the case and flipped it open. The same case I hadn’t touched in weeks.
I picked up my violin now that I could feel my fingers again
. That was one thing stadiums didn’t have: great heating. Even packed in amongst thousands of screaming fans, the cold from the night sliced through my coat and gloves, or maybe it was a cold that didn’t come from the elements but rather from no longer being in his embrace.
My bow ran across the strings. Closing my eyes, I swayed along to the melody I’d played a thousand times before, still feeling it deep in my bones. This story of love lost was real now. Before they’d been finger positions on my strings; now they were notes on my soul. I poured myself into the rhythm and melody, trying to keep myself together. I was fraying more and more every day, but it was showing me that I could stand up to the pressure. I wasn’t going to Boston next year. I’d stay in Philly even if I was all alone. I’d made a life for myself, and even though it had fallen apart, I could do it again. It wouldn’t be the same.
There would always be two parts of my life: BR and AR. After Reece would be a little less bright, but I could do it. I’d go to Boston and tell my mom exactly what I planned on doing. Maybe I’d bring Aunt Sophie as backup. My mom didn’t have to live under the iron grip of my dad either.
He didn’t deserve another word from me or a single thought, but I’d do everything I could to get my mom to see the same went for her. We should both be free.
My bedroom door flew open. I jumped, spinning around.
“I’m home now.” Alexa stood in the doorway with her hand on the knob, closing the door.
I lifted the violin back to my shoulder.
“Didn’t you hear me?” She opened the door fully.
“I heard you, I just don’t care.” I was tired of caving to bullies.
“You could be a bit more respectful. We do live together.”
I put my violin on the bed and turned.
She seemed to take that as me giving in to her and closed the door.